The Beautiful Ones
by EscapeToCity
Summary: Varying outlooks on love & devotion. *SLASH*...implied. Please R&R if you can.


THE BEAUTIFUL ONES  
  
Author: EscapeToCity  
  
Rating: R  
  
Disclaimer: Clark, Lex & their world belong to the AOL Time Warner universe.  
  
Note: The semester is over. Yay! I churned this little story out while contemplating how to wrap up my old 'He Was Marked For Murder' series (which will be complete very soon!)...as for this little piece, read & see what you think of it. Feedback always appreciated!  
  
Best regards,  
  
J.B. @ Fort Walton Bch. ****************************  
  
"I love you."  
  
I love you.  
  
"I think I might be in love."  
  
"I know it."  
  
"I'm confused."  
  
"I'm not."  
  
"Never."  
  
  
  
I'm holding his hand and it's marvelous like holding on to rock, maybe granite, maybe marble...no, marble is too cold and he's warm and he's firm like the pebbles on the bottom of the pond...I remember going there with him as a child, diving into that blue pool and reaching down to grasp the big, round stones...he's like those stones...he's forever and firm and blue and warm and I love him.  
  
"Need him."  
  
I can't hold his hand because people might figure out. Figure out what's going on. I'm afraid of what they will think of me. What my loved ones will think. My friends. What they might do to him. They might hurt him...with words. He's too bitter already...I have to shield him. Her? But his hand is so clean and strong and I wish I could hold it. I think about it everyday. Other. His hand isn't like the other.  
  
"Want him."  
  
I watch the muscles in his back because they're there and they are rolling like the tide and I feel myself get juiced just watching them rise and fall along with his chest. He's turned away from me as always. He's afraid I won't be here when he wakes. I wonder does he know I fear the same.  
  
"I want to break you in two."  
  
The first time it hurt like hell and I told him to take it easy and he did and he loves me, he really loves me and oh, God, I can't believe it is true. I really can't. I mean I never thought anyone would care about me, anyone actually holding me when I dream of stones from the sky and when I feel so alone. He loves me.  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
She makes too much noise and it unnerves me. She's always planting her hands on my ass and begging me for it and I don't want to feel like I am using her but seems to want me to. Damn, she's screaming. I don't want to hurt anyone anymore. I'm too tired. I want things to be easy. I wonder if everything's too far gone for that. She loves my finger.  
  
"Just close your eyes and sleep."  
  
He watched me take a shower and it was so hot I was laughing and his teeth were bared and it looked like he was drooling. I wonder if he was hungry? He licked his lips and I did the same. We laughed. It feels so natural. Not like the other. Never like the other. Naturally sexy and wet and he attacked my mouth and I let him because he's so beautiful and he tastes so good.  
  
"Define love."  
  
We're at the Talon and we're smiling at one another. I look over and see a girl from school I know and she's with some random boy, a boy, and I think to myself how lucky I am to have what I have and to enjoy such company. He's playing with his cup and his shirt is wrinkled a little bit and I laugh to myself when I think how it got that way. He's looking at me.  
  
"Look there."  
  
We were watching the sunset, he and I. I looked over at him. He always seems lost in his thoughts. I wonder is he worried about anything. I rub his head. We're both worriers. It's our nature. His skin feels so good, I want to burrow into it and never leave. I try to get him excited, try to arouse some interest, but he keeps looking out over the fields. Towards.  
  
"That's us."  
  
Holding her hand I walk through the doors and see some faces, familiar faces. Can they read my mind? I fear I am so transparent they could walk through me. Hey! A familiar hand, a good hand, it grips my shoulder and then I am laughing and handing over notes. A girl's wink. A familiar girl. Other. A girlish laugh echoes through the halls and for a second, it makes me sick. There's a blur of short and blond and the rubber scent of a basketball and they leave me. With. Other. I'm disgusted. Just for a second.  
  
"I have to go."  
  
The first time he kissed me I was frightened because what would people think? He's not in my grade. What would they think? He never played with me by the pond, the pond with the blue stones and forgotten kisses. He never giggled in the treehouse or helped me finish a sundae. But his kiss is mine and I know it. He's got more. Power. The other...he's. He's what he is. Soft. This one is mine. I know he knows it. The same way I know I make him come and he loves me for it. Everyday, I know it and feel it and I want more and more.  
  
"I can't tell her."  
  
I watch her watch him and I want to kill her or hurl or something but inside I get it, and I love her for it. This is the only way this will work. This...love of ours. Too much...other. Outside. I watch her watching him and I get hard because I am thinking about the way her long dark hair falls when she's straddling me and the little squeak she makes when she comes, teardrops falling, biting her lip...the blood tastes delicious, like rain.  
  
"She needs me."  
  
I almost tell everyone. I need to. Want to. Everything inside me begs to be heard but all I do is whisper. Eat some more food, they say. You look damned pea-ked, says Pa. Ha. If only they knew. Last night I was bent over a desk, then a car, then slammed royally over a saddle bag. Last night I was moaning for hours like a whore. And I loved it. No one sees this part. Not. Even. This part of the map. It's that unwritten, undocumented country beyond what people see. He kissed me for thirty minutes. I held my breath, didn't want him to stop. Perhaps it's love.  
  
"I know."  
  
Needing and wanting. Wishing. Every night my dream is the same, ending the same. Her there, him there. Me there, him there. Me and him. Eventually she kind of fades but then lingers, then morphs into something that makes me wake up sweaty and hot and crying. Like the first time. Other.  
  
She looks at me all sad and shit and I do feel sorry for her but I don't love her.  
  
"I love you."  
  
He looks at me with those eyes, pleading for me to hold him.  
  
"I love you."  
  
He slams into me, wanting, pulling, controlling my every thought. Of. Other. I told him my secrets. What will they think?  
  
"I love you."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
We're too far gone... ...at least we're beautiful.  
  
  
  
  
  
END 


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